Follow The Tracks
by arosequartz
Summary: She looked back on the summer of 1959. The summer where she and the gang followed the tracks to see a dead body. The summer where she laughed, cried, fought, where she learned to let her walls down. It was an adventure she would never forget, especially when it was the summer when she loved.
1. Don't You Dare!

The young aged woman stepped out the back door, wrapped up in only a white bathrobe that hit her mid thigh. Bare feet pressed against the dark wooden deck, a cup of coffee in hand. The sky was clear, revealing tiny bright stars to contrast against the black night. A half moon shone, illuminating the tops of trees and lampposts. The time was 1:05, way early to be awake on a Saturday morning. But she couldn't sleep, and had slipped out from her husband's arms to breath in the warm air of summer. A light breeze blew through her straight black shoulder length hair, causing a few pieces to tickle her face.

Unable to help herself, her mind wandered back to that summer where her whole life changed. The year was 1959, and it all began, with a tree house, and a card game.

* * *

"GOD DAMMIT!"

Ignoring my father's slurred cry, I jumped out the window, falling about twenty feet before landing hard on my side. Christopher, my twin brother was running up ahead of me screaming to get a move on. That's right, you guessed it; Chris and I hid Dad's stash of alcohol the night before and the consequences were about to dump all over our heads if we didn't start moving.

I hauled my ass off the dry summer grass and ran, my toes millimeters away from nipping at Chris's heels. It was in that moment I was thankful for wearing a button-down shirt tucked into a pair of my brother's jeans, instead of those long obnoxious dresses girls wore. We ran through and out of town, dodging ole' Ace and his gang before skidding to a halt up on a hill. The hill was covered in dried up grass and bushes, looking out over Castle Rock. Looming over our heads was a tree with a thick trunk, it's branches thick enough to hold a tree house.

Our tree house.

I climbed up the wooden latter and reached up, knocking my knuckles against the latch just above me. _Knock-knock-knock-knock. Knock-knock. Knock-knock-knock. _A fervent shuffling sound could be heard before the latch opened up. A head with thick, black rimmed glasses and chin poked out. "Hey'a Tess. Chris." Teddy Duchamp cried gleefully, and hauled us up. Teddy was crazy, had a laugh that sounded like a baby hyena, and always acted recklessly. His father was mentally unstable, would throw into random acts of rage before calming down again. Once he even held Teddy's ear to a stove, almost burning it off. The scars were still there, his left ear thinner than his right. He was practically blind, (a bit of an exaggeration), half deaf even.

Once everyone was settled, a tiny table was set upon the now closed latch. Chris took out a deck of cards that had been rolled up in his white t-shirt sleeve and dealt them out for the game 31. We argued over who was going to go first before the secret knock was heard under our asses.

Lifting up the card table, I pulled the latch open, peering down at the face of Gordon Lachance. A smile I couldn't conceal spread across my lips. "Get your ass up here, Gordie." I smirked and pulled him up. "Come on, deal him in," I said, grabbing some cards and handing them over to our newcomer.

Gordie was lean, had dark brunette hair, which looked light in the sun and was always combed neatly to the side. He was intelligent, loved to write, and just lost his brother about four months ago. I felt bad for him, real bad, not because his famous football star of a brother passed away, but because his parents were shit. They didn't care one bit about him, they didn't even pay attention when he spoke to them, especially his father. He said all his father did these days was compare him to Denny.

I guess the only escape Gordie had was us.

"Hey," Chris said, bumping me out from my thoughts. "How do you know if a Frenchman's been in your backyard?"

Teddy scowled, cigarette between his teeth. "Hey I'm French, okay?" he said, pulling at the collar of is loose dark green t-shirt, before going back to his cards.

But my dear twin just ignored his friend's protest. "You're garbage cans are empty and your dog's pregnant." I snorted, flicking a piece of dirt at his head. To my annoyance, he ducked, laughing with Gordie.

Teddy wasn't so amused. "Didn't I just say I was French?" he demanded a little louder.

"I knock." Chris smirked.

"Shit."

"Twenty-nine." Chris drawled.

"Twenty-five."

"Twenty-two."

Gordie shouted in disgust. "Piss up a rope." Brushing off the rest of our laughs he went to go sit and read a magazine.

Teddy was still cackling. "Gordie's out! Ole' Gordie just bit the bag and stepped out the door!" Duchamp's nose crinkled, his eyes squinting, filled with laughter.

"Dude," I said in Gordie's defense, my tone dry."You laugh like a hyena, know that?"

He kept laughing.

Chris tapped the table with impatience. "Come on man, deal." Teddy dealt the cards, snorting.

"Hey Theresa," he giggled.

I scoffed. "What?"

"Stopped wrapping up your tits yet?" everyone laughed, and I felt warmth creep up my neck. When you hang out with four boys, and you're the only girl with them, you tend to cover up any womanly features as possible. But since the year before when wrapping my tits became a useless point, I had indeed stopped.

Thinking quickly, I retorted. "Not for you though." I was going to add the words "see for yourself." But that would've been stupid, real stupid,

"Oooh." Chris and Gordie chorused, and Teddy scowled as three of us continued our game.

"I knock."

Chris glared. "You four-eyed pile of shit."

"The pile of shit has a thousand eyes." Teddy drawled, eyes wide.

I caught Chris and Gordie's eyes. We cracked up. Sometimes Teddy had the weirdest comebacks.

"What?" he said, confused. "What's so funny? Come on I've got thirty, what have you got?" he said, focusing back on the game.

"Nineteen."

Chris couldn't stop laughing. "Sixteen," he giggled, head down in embarrassment.

Teddy shook his head in frustration. "Go ahead, keep laughing," he taunted. "You're down to your last ride, pal." He heaved in, then breathed out smoke. My brother was still laughing.

He and I came from a bad family. They were always drinking, didn't have a care for us. Even our elder brother, Eyeball we called him, was sick. And I don't mean sick like cool sick. No man, he was one of the most disturbing, sickest, human beings I knew living on planet earth. He was part of ole' Ace's gang, and with his slicked back black hair and pale skin, he looked tough, fit in right well with the hoods.

My name's Chambers, Theresa Chambers, everyone calls me Tess though. I have Eyeball's raven black hair that reached down passed my shoulders and pale skin. I'm not as bad as people mouth off, but since I hang around with these lovable assholes, and my family's screwed, tough reputation spreads real fast around here. Same with Chris, his reputation was worse than mine though, (kudos for being a girl).

He was tough, and sometimes would screw up, but he wasn't like Eyeball, or Dad, or Mom, or even me. He didn't even share Eyeball's and my looks; no he had fair skin and cut short blonde hair like our mother. Since we all had to deal with shit at home, us three kids would take it out on our social lives, and not in the best way possible. Eyeball joined ole' Ace's gang, I took it out on cussing people to hell. But Chris, no, he traded violence and cruelty with peace and tenderness.

It sounds crazy, but he's real tender, especially with the people he's closest to. I see it every time he looks at me, and especially Gordie, like he's so afraid he'll break the thread of friendship. But what's ironic, is the thread of friendship between him and Gordie is as thick as the tree holding us four up.

A fervent knocking came from beneath our feet, once again, jolting me from my thoughts.

Gordie sighed, still reading his magazine. "That's not the secret knock."

"I forgot the secret knock. Lemme in!" A voice yelled from below.

"Vern," we all chorused, and removed the card table.

More yells came from below. "Come on you guys, open up!" Once Vern climbed in, I could tell he was breathing hard, and a peculiar look upon his face. "Oh man! You guys aren't gonna believe this! This is so boss!" Vern said breathless, settling himself on one side of the tree house wall. "Wait'll you hear this! Wait'll you hear this!" He ranted on, way too excited for his own health. "You won't believe it! It's unbelievable!"

We situated ourselves around the latch, leaning in.

"Let me catch my breath," he paused, still hyperventilating. "I ran all the way from my house."

"I ran all the way home," we all sang out, making Vern scowl at our immaturity. "Just to say I'm sorry..."

Vern's scowl deepened. "Come one you guys, listen to me," he whined, but was drowned out by our singing. "Forget it, I don't have to tell you nothin'."

Chris stopped. "Alright, hold on you, hold on." We stopped singing, leaning in again. "What is it man?" he asked as we all faced Vern.

"Okay, great." Vern proceeded. "You won't believe this, I swear. Sincerely."

Since ole' Verno wasn't getting to the point fast enough, we broke into song again. "I ran all the way home..."

"Screw you guys." Vern waved his hand in defeat, still scowling. "Forget it."

We stopped, leaning in again. "What is it?" Chris said.

Vern sighed, then gave us an awkward furrowed brow look. "Can you guys camp out tonight? I mean if..."

My mind blocked out his words, for a moment, reality settling in once more. Oh it was possible alright, to camp out. But my father had been drinking a lot lately, sort of on a mean streak. Which is exactly what my twin explained when Vern asked if he could come.

"I'm surprised he hasn't raped me yet." I joked nonchalantly.

"Tess!" I snapped towards Chris, who looked ready to jump me.

I gulped. His eyes narrowed dangerously, a glare so like Dad's.

"Don't you dare say that," he hissed, voice low, pointing straight at me. A warning. "Don't. You. Dare!" To break the tension, I just waved him off, but I could tell he wasn't going to let go of my words, yet.

The tree house was filled with silent tension, the kind where if someone didn't break the silence soon, you felt like jumping out of the place.

Surprisingly, Vern was the savior.

"Can you Gordie?" he asked, facing him.

"Yeah. Probably," the handsome boy replied, his chocolate brown eyes not wavering from his magazine.

Teddy, who's patience was filled said, "So what are you pissin' and moanin' about Verno?" But before the poor boy could respond, everyone's focus was back to the card game.

Finally, Vern said his reasons, an eyebrow awkwardly raised. "You guys wanna go see a dead body?"

Those words, unbeknownst to me, changed my life, forever.

* * *

**Would you readers be so kind as to review? Reviews mean everything to me, it's great motivation.**


	2. Gun 45

My heart started racing, and suddenly it felt as if all my senses heightened. I wasn't sure what I was feeling. Intrigue, fright, excitement and wonder filled my stomach all at once. Vern's words were so effective, even Gordie tore his eyes away from his magazine, and sat up, alert. All four of us leaned in, on the edge of our seats as Vern explained what he meant.

He had been under his houses porch, digging up pennies that he himself had buried. Unfortunately, his mother had thrown away the map, so poor Vern had been digging for nine months! Nine months man. But that wasn't the point, Vern told us how he overheard his brother Billy and his friend Charlie Hogan talking about how they found Ray Brower's body near the train tracks by the Back Harlow Road. But Billy didn't want to call the cops, saying how the police would know he and Charlie had boosted a car the day before. In my opinion, they were both shit heads and idiots. But if it wasn't for them, we would've never known about Ray Brower's body.

All five of us had followed the story of Ray Brower real closely, mostly because he was our age, and it's not everyday you here about a dead kid between the ages of ten to fifteen.

"I know the Back Harlow Road." Teddy piped up after Vern was done speaking. "It comes to a dead end by the river. The train tracks are right there!" He sat up straighter, looking proud. "Me and my Dad used to fish for Cossies out there all the time."

I sneered. "My Dad and I, Duchamp." I corrected his grammar, smirking as his prideful stance swooped back down. I caught Gordie's eye, who just laughed. Correcting Teddy's grammar was one of the many hobbies I treasured daily.

"Fuck you Chambers." Teddy shot back, giving me a poisonous glare through his glasses.

I gave him the finger. "Back at'cha kid." This insult of course, caused him to jump up, but Chris calmed him down, quickly changing the subject back to Ray Brower's body. The boys just wanted to find the body for fame. Myself however, wanted to see it for some unknown reason. At that time I wasn't so sure, but some yearning hunger to see the body had started building in my chest.

Then we had another problem to face; how the hell were we going to tell our parents. Of course Gordie, who had the brains knew exactly what to do. I swear, the kid seemed like a walking talking textbook on "How To Survive Life."

"We'll all tell our folks we're tenting out in your back field," he began, pointing at Vern. "You tell your folks you're sleeping over at Teddy's." A small smile spread across his lips. "Then we say we're goin' over to the drag races the next day. We're rock solid 'til dinner tomorrow night."

Chris beamed at him, the cigarette between his fingers. "Man that's a plan and a half," he congratulated and the two shared some skin. Now when I say sharing skin, I mean the two just brushed the palms of their opposite hands twice. It's sort of like a simple secret handshake.

We all agreed to meet up at the train tracks where we began our walk. But first, we only had about two hours to get ready. Once Chris and I walked up to the side of our house, we hesitated. "Mom better be home." I started climbing up through the bedroom window and jumped. Once Chris and I were both in his ratty tatty room, we paused to look at each other again. "If Mom isn't home, you're telling Dad." I said, poking my brother's shoulder. Fear started building up in my chest, it always did every time I stepped foot into the building we called home. It really sucked you know, us two being afraid of home because out parents were shit.

"Nah-uh," he said in disgust, pushing me towards the hallway. "Not if he's drunk, which is forever." He pushed me again. "Come on," he begged, "Dad listens to you."

I sighed, it was true. Dad did listen to me more than Chris, he's always favored me over him. Which is something Chris had always been jealous about. "Fine," I began, "but if he lashes out, I'm runnin', ya dig?"

He nodded, bright green eyes stern. "Yeah."

Once I had silently padded down the staircase which entered the living room. I stopped, my breath hitched at the sight of Dad sitting in his old beat up chair, bottle in hand, drinking his life away. Swallowing my nerves, I maneuvered to his side, gently, carefully, hesitantly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What is it?" his gruff voice growled.

To be honest, it took me a moment to find my voice. "Hi Daddy," I choked in my sweetest voice possible. "Can Chris and I camp out in Vern's backyard, then go over to the drag races tomorrow?"

At first he didn't respond, and I thought he hadn't even heard me. He'd get so drunk, sometimes his mind wasn't even present. "What?" he snapped, and my stomach jumped to my chest. "That it?" he asked again.

I smiled. "Yes Daddy. Please Daddy?" I pleaded, warily prying the bear bottle away from his hands, which he had been staring at for far too long. "Daddy?" I asked again.

The same as last time, I thought he had lost his mind.

Suddenly the bottle was grabbed from my hand and thrown across the room, it shattered. My father stood, breathing hard. Too stunned to move, I stood frozen as he leaned over to painfully grip my shoulders. His breath stunk of beer, dark eyes glassy. "And why should I let my girl hang out with a bunch of dicks," he hissed, spitting on my face, and I flinched, his overgrown fingernails digging through the fabric of my shirt. "You'd get ra—"

"Stop!" Chris sprinted down the stairs, almost running right into me as he reached out to pry Dad's hands off. "Let go of her, she's hurtin'!" He finally let me go, and I sagged in relief only to cringe away when Dad's fingers wound a tight grip around my brother's wrists.

Chris trembled as he leaned forward, noses almost touching. "Why don't you mind your own beeswax Son?" he snarled, hand raised and my brother recoiled.

For a second, I thought he would get slapped, but just then the front door opened, revealing a woman I call Mom. She was like an older female version of Chris, looks, personality, practically all of it. But the one thing she didn't have, was his tenderness.

She was never tender with us.

"What the hell is goin' on here?" she asked, her voice slightly slurred. After work, she and a couple of friends would drive over to a small bar nearby, and drink. She didn't drink as much as Dad, but still, drinking is drinking. Leaves your head defenseless, no kind of wall to guard your thoughts. Plus, just the idea of a women going out to drink was absurd. Yet again, my family was shit.

At the sound of her voice, Dad immediately let go of Chris's wrists, standing as straight as possible. "Our kids," he growled, violently pointing our way with a thick dirtied finger. "They want to go camp out at Vern's then go to..." He stopped, completely forgetting what I had previously told him.

"To the drag races," I finished fervently, casting a nervous glance towards my father, who spat on the floor.

"Shut up kid," he snapped.

My mother, standing near the door looked as if she wasn't sure to run out of the building, or throw her authority on us. Her authority won. "Now Rob," she began, taking a few cautious steps forward. "It's just for two days, even though these kids aren't mature enough, they'll survive."

I sneered at her words. Hell we were mature enough. _Even more mature than you two!_ I mentally cried, but kept my mouth shut. If opened, I might have just cursed them to hell.

"Go, get out of my sight," my mother snapped. Those words were all it took for Chris and I to bound up the stairs.

Once we reached my bedroom, we stopped to take a breather. "Jesus Christ, he was gonna slap you!" I protested as Chris slumped down on my bed. "He's never laid a figure on us before."

My brother laid down on his back. "I know," he said, "but Dad won't hesitate if Mom's not around." Nodding, I slumped down beside him. The two of us just lay there, trying to wrap our mind across what to do until Chris said, "We gotta pack, let's role." He hauled himself up, striding towards his room, a spring in his step, guaranteed he was looking forward to our little trip.

It took about seven minutes to pack up my bed roll, and a canteen of water. Looking atop my dresser, I found four quarters randomly scattered about. They were soon stuffed in my jean's pocket. At first I thought about food, then realized my family couldn't afford any food being stolen. We were somewhat lower middle class, but with my parents drinking and all, food was scares.

"Ya ready?" Chris's head popped around the door frame, seemingly impatient.

I nodded. "Can't wait to get outta this hell hole."

Not wanting to walk the whole ways, Chris managed to snag a truck hauling some barrels of hay. The driver reluctantly agreed to allow us a ride since he too, was driving out of town. Before we knew it, my brother and I were riding on the back of a truck, sitting on top of the haystacks.

About five minutes later, I spotted Lachance walking along the sidewalks, wearing some Yankees ball cap. "Hey look," I said, nudging my brother's side. "Gordie."

"Hey Chris, Tess." Gordie greeted us, and my stomach did a little flip.

We jumped off the truck, giving our thanks before the truck drove off. "Sure thing. No problem kids," the driver said and swerved back onto the streets.

"Gordo!" Chris energetically greeted and slung his arm around his best friend's shoulder. I was soon walking behind them, feeling like the third wheel. So I jogged around, at least wanting to represent the captain leading my army into battle.

"Hey man." Gordie said, though his voice was quieter, and he sounded almost sad.

"Dude, you okay?" I asked him, turning to walk backwards, watching his reaction. But he just shrugged. I sighed, that was all I was getting out of the boy. "Okay." I said, turning back to face forwards.

A quiet pause followed, until Chris broke the silence. "You wanna see something?"

"Sure, what is it?" Gordie asked, obviously occupied, albeit, he snapped out of it. "What?"

Chris picked up his pace, running by me. "Come on man," he shouted and we followed. I for once not knowing what he was talking about. Gordie and I ran after him, both of us yelling out questions.

We rounded a corner, right behind a diner. 'What the hell have you been up to?" I asked, not caring how impatient my tone was.

But Chris didn't respond. Instead, he forced a hand into his bedroll, pulling out—_Dad's gun holy shit_, I thought. But my brother and Gordie were too excited to even care about the consequences. "You wanna be the Lone Ranger, or the Cisco Kid?" Chris asked, handing the gun over to Gordie, who was staring at it in wonder.

"Walkin' talkin' Jesus," he breathed out. "Where'd you get this?"

Chris opened his mouth, about to respond. But I beat him to it. "It's Dad's, a 45." I explained furiously and grabbed my idiot of a brother's shirt, pulling him close. "What was goin' on in that thick head of yours?" I hissed, shaking him a bit.

"Calm down sis," he said, though I didn't. "It's in case of a wild animal."

"What were you thinking?" I hissed again, ignoring his excuse. "Hawkin' from Dad, boy we're dead as a door nail and there is no excuse for—"

But Gordie cut me off. "Got any shells for this?" he asked, making shooting sounds, aiming at a garbage can.

My brother nodded, slipping out of my hold, leaving me fuming. "Yeah," he replied. "Took all that was left in the box."

I smacked a face palm. "Oh brother."

He just ignored my outburst, still watching Gordie. "My dad'll think he used it himself, shooting at bear cans while he was drunk."

_No he won't_...I mentally added, fear building up again. My father was stupid, not that stupid though. That was Vern, but he wasn't that bad. Clueless and good for a laugh though. But I bet that was because he lived with a decent family.

"Is it loaded?" Gordie asked again, cocking the gun.

Chris shook his head. "Hell no! What do ya think I am?"

_BANG! _

"JESUS," and we ran.

Chris was laughing, running into a garbage can as he taunted, "Gordie did it! Gordie Lachance is shooting up Castle Rock!"

"Shut up! You want the whole town knowin'?" I shouted, breathless as we rounded a corner, coming to a walk.

But Chris kept on taunting. "Oh you should've seen your face. Damn that was cool." He did a small jump, pumping his fist. "Damn that was fine."

But Gordie would have non of it. "You knew it was loaded you wet end!" His voice rose an octave. "That Tupper babe saw me!"

"Shit Gordie." Chris objected, "she thought it was firecrackers."

"I don't care, that was a mean trick Chris—"

"Hey Gordie." Chris grabbed his arm, serious. My breath caught. "I didn't know it was loaded. Honest."

Lachance was still skeptical, scowling. "You swear?"

My brother nodded. "Yeah, I swear."

"On your mother's name? Even if she goes to hell—"

"Gordie." I interrupted, putting a hand on his shoulder, trying my best to sooth him, and myself. "He didn't know, I would've known if that was a trick. He tells me everything." Stroking my thumb over his shoulder I added, "I swear, he didn't know."

After a few seconds, he tore his gaze away from me, confirming one more time. "Pinky swear?"

Chris sighed, rolling his eyes, this was getting ridiculous. "Pinky swear," he echoed, crossing his heart and kissing his finger. It was one of those moments where he created peace. I knew that's all he hoped for in life, peace. Wish I could say the same, but it wasn't true. There were times where I thought leaving situations to themselves or toughing it out was best.

Glad that the tension was gone, I playfully reached up to snatch Gordie's cap, but he slapped my hand away. "Sorry," I quickly apologized, taken aback. We kept on walking as I wondered why the cap was so important.

Walking a few more steps as we passed Irby's Billiard Hall, ole' Ace and my dear brother Eyeball walked out the door. "Hey girls!" Eyeball taunted. "Where ya goin'?"

I whirled around, all thoughts of Gordie's cap forgotten as I glared, hoping to seer holes in my dear brother's forehead. "We don't need your shit Eyeball! Go back to wherever the fuck you came from and stay in that hell." My tone was lowered, a threat, a warning. We faced off, dark green eyes staring back at one another. It was disturbing knowing how much I looked like him, you know. Chris set a soothing hand on my arm, but I shrugged him off.

"Hey come on man! My brother gave me that!"

Our concentration broke as a cry came from Gordie.

Ace had taken the Yankee's cap, holding it above his head as poor Lachance scrambled to grab it. _That's why it's so important._ I thought back to April. _Denny. _The cap was the last bit of his essence.

"You're a real asshole you know that?" Chris warned, taking a step forwards. I could tell he was trying hard not to loose it. Yet again, it was hard not to around Ace's gang at all.

Ace sneered, his blonde hair blown by the wind as he gave shit-head the Yankee's cap. "Your brother's not very polite, Eyeball." He took a step forward. "Take that back."

I wasn't sure what was said next, my concentration was on Eyeball. But before I knew it, my twin was on the ground, cussing out as Ace straddled him, his cigarette close to burning his face.

Then Ace froze, because I had him in a headlock. The kind of headlock where you snap the opponent's neck. "Let. Him. Go." I hissed close to his ear, "or I swear to god you'll drop dead." This was highly unusual for a girl to do, but when you've got two brothers and one who's willing to look out for ya, you tend to learn and pick up on a lot of defense moves.

After a Pregnant pause, Chris's voice from below was heard. "Don't Tess, come on, let go."

"What?" I asked, surprised, peering over Ace's shoulder to see Chris grimacing in pain.

"I take it back," he said, albeit reluctant. "I take it back." Remember, peace, that's all he cared for.

Blondie let him go, taking a breath of pride, filled with smoke. "Now I feel a whole lot better about this. What about you?" We didn't say a word, though I spat on the ground in disgust. "Good." Ace grinned, satisfied. He and Eyeball walked off.

"See'ya later girls." Eyeball crowed over his shoulder. We ignored his taunt, staring after him.

Someone jerked my elbow. "Come on, just forget 'em." Chris said, pulling my arm impatiently. Reluctantly, I nodded, tearing my eyes away from Denny's cap as we both caught up to Gordie.

Since the tension had increased again, we playfully pushed and shoved each other, walking towards our destination. It wasn't until we passed the welcoming gate to Castle Rock did I gently wrap my fingers around Lachance's wrist. He stopped, light brown eyes questioning. "I promise, you," I whispered, ignoring my brothers impatient call. "You're getting that Yankee's cap back."

He blinked. "Really, ya mean it?"

A smirk formed across my lips. "I swear."

* * *

**You're welcome for the long chapter. Hope you enjoyed this one. **

**Trust me, writing Ace's scene was sickening, I hate that guy so much! Anyone else?**

**Please review readers, I would love to know what you're thinking. (Okay that sounds creepy, sorry) ;)**

**Next chapter is way more exciting, I promise, pinky swear.**


	3. Two For Flinching

**READ PLEASE. **

**I would like you to know, that some might think Theresa should not be able to get Denny's cap back. But in that scene where Eyeball took it from Gordie, my heart broke for him. Because he should at least permanently keep something that was special to Denny. Don't worry, she'll find the cap in an unexpected place at an unsuspecting time. If anyone has a problem with that, I'm sorry. **

**P.S. If you want to imagine what Theresa looks like, even though I already described her looks, think of Christina Ricci in her movie Now and Then.**

* * *

As the three of us waited by the Castle Rock gate, Teddy decided at that moment to join us. He was obviously excited, bounding up and exclaiming, "Are the the soldiers ready?" he didn't wait for an answer. "Great! Let's go!"

"Hold it there Captain!" I joked, yanking him back by the collar of his green shirt. "We're missin' a soldier."

"I'm here!" A voice yelled out, and we turned to find Vern running at his full speed. "Sorry I'm late," he said, his breath coming in gasps. "My mom wanted me to double check everything."

"Escaping Mother's grasp, eh?" I teased, and he scowled as the rest of us laughed. "I'm just playin' with ya," I said, giving him a noogie. "It's nice knowin' at least one of us has got a decent family."

He smiled. "Yeah. I guess you're right."

That being said, we walked down the street, leaving Castle Rock behind as we neared a hill. Atop came the train tracks, or as I mentally called it, "The Yellow Brick road."

Chris bounded forwards. "Hey I brought a pistol!" He waved it around as we hauled ourselves up the hill. "Hawked it from my dad."

"Lemme see," Teddy said in awe, hands becoming grabby grabby. But Chris wouldn't let him, which was probably wise since we'd get ourselves killed trusting Teddy with a gun.

"Oh, Gordie shot a garbage can today," Chris reenacted the scene behind the diner, and we all laughed. I playfully nudged Lachancey boy in the side, who scowled.

"I didn't know it was loaded," he defended himself, throwing his hands up in surrender.

Vern gave Chris a skeptical look as we neared the tracks. "Well, what do we need a pistol for anyway?"

My brother scowled. "It's spooky sleeping out at night in the woods," he said as we formed some relative line across the train tracks. "We might see a bear — or a garbage can." Chris pat Gordie on the shoulder and the boy looked down, embarrassed as we all shared a laugh.

"I brought a comb." Vern said, showing us the comb from his shirt pocket.

"What do we need a comb for?" Chris frowned, bemused. I gave him a look. "What?"

Vern shrugged. "Well, if we get on TV, we wanna look good don't we?"

A sudden image appeared in my head, all five of us looking shaggy while on the screen. I smirked. "Genius."

"That's a lot of thinkin', Vern." Gordie congratulated.

"Thanks."

He flinched randomly as Teddy feigned a punch to his face. "Two for flinching," he said and punched Vern's arm, twice.

"Ow!" Vern scowled.

Honestly, Teddy never gave him a flipping chance.

So, I feigned a punch at Duchamp. "Two for flinching," I smirked, eyebrow raised, punching his shoulder twice, everyone laughed. He scowled, knowing exactly what I was referring to.

We halted right at the beginning of the train bridge, looking out, wondering, curiosity eating at our stomachs.

"How long do you think it's gonna be?" Teddy asked, humiliation and arrogance aside.

Chris sighed, placing a hand on his hip. "If we follow the tracks all the way into Harlow, should be about twenty miles." He turned to glance over his shoulder and back. "Sound about right to you, Gordie?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it might even be about thirty." Gordie responded, tipping his head to the side.

"Twenty-four, twenty-five," I added, not thirty though. I smirked, glancing his way, who just smirked back.

Squinting awkwardly, Vern shook his head. "Gee, maybe we should just hitch hike." He looked back, having second thoughts.

We all turned to look at him, scornful. "No way!" Teddy exclaimed, his arrogance back. "That sucks!"

Vern gaped, feeling foolish, though he might not have been. "Why not?" he asked fervently. "We could go out to Route 7 to the Shiloh church, then down the Back Harlow Road." Turning towards us, he added, "we'll be there by sundown."

"That's pussy!" Teddy halted, facing Vern.

I whirled around, glaring at mister crazy head. "Watch your mouth Duchamp." I snarled, taking a few steps forward. All the boys recoiled, as if I was speaking directly toward's them as well. Losing my temper was extremely rare, but say the right words and you've crossed the line. Simple, common used insults were absolutely fine, but be careful. "I will not tolerate sexist terms from your mouth."

But he just shrugged, like he always did when speechless, and I knew I couldn't change his mind. That was his decision to make, not mine. Chris, Gordie, and I went forwards, ignoring Teddy as he and Vern shared some last few lines before following suit.

About an hour passed until we stepped out of from the forestry trees onto a wide, vast, open space, filled with hills, the trees left in the background. During this hour, we had randomly started singing songs like "Rock Around The Clock" and "Sorry" or the theme song from Have Gun Will Travel. Which, at that moment, we were singing, half shouting just that song while quickly walking down the tracks.

"Have Gun Will Travel reads the card of a man.  
A knight without armor in a savage land.  
His fast gun for hire head's the calling wind.  
A soldier of fortune is the man called, Paladin!"

Something funny came over me right as we finished. I suddenly felt as if I could soar above the clouds, as if the moment could last forever: no bickering, no insulting, no offending. Just nice and relaxing time with my best friends and I could not have asked for more. I chuckled, watching my brother skip with a cry of joy, and I knew he felt free. Free of our parents drunken reign on us. Free of Castle Rock and that suffocating small town. Free of our well known reputations as criminals.

Here, in this moment, in this place; I could be myself without having to worry one bit and no one could stop me!

"We could fill up at the junkyard." Gordie said, checking our water supplies. "My dad says it's a safe well."

But Vern looked worried. "Not if Chopper's there."

My brother laughed. "If Chopper's there, we'll send you in." We laughed at the thought.

"Ha ha, very funny." Vern's tone laced with sarcasm.

To brighten his mood, I added quickly. "Why don't we send in Teddy after ya too?" Chris shared a look with me, and we burst out laughing, smirking at the scowl crazy guy sent my way.

Chopper was the dog of the owner who owned the junkyard. He was known as this great beast of a dog who was trained to sic any certain parts of the human body. Example; if a boy got caught lazying around the junkyard, you could hear the dreadful cry of Milo, the owner yelling, "Chopper, sic balls!" It was terrifying, really. And to be honest, since I didn't have any balls, I also did not want to lose my virginity to a crazed dog!

"Hey I'm kinda hungry," Vern voiced. "Who's got the food?"

Aaaaand my happy moment was spoiled. "Um, I don't think—" I started to say but Teddy beat me to it.

"Oh shit," he said, gesturing with exasperation. "Did anybody bring anything?"

I looked down at my black and white converse shoes, ashamed and mentally scolding myself for _not_ bringing the food when I had a choice earlier. But that part I just kept to myself.

It was a negative for everyone.

"Oh," Teddy snapped, "oh, this is great! What are we supposed to do, eat our feet?!"

Chris scowled. "You mean you didn't bring anything either?" he confronted, taking a step forwards to face Duchamp.

"Well shit, this wasn't my idea!" Teddy said, defensive, and Chris stomped his foot against the gravel, losing his patience. "It was Vern's idea," Teddy rounded on poor Tessio, who's expression was innocent. "Why didn't you bring anything?"

Vern recoiled, shocked. "What am I supposed to do, think of everything? I brought the comb!"

A full argument broke out between the two, and I tried to break it up. They were being ridiculous.

Gordie jumped in, his voice a notch louder than the rest of us idiots. "Hey hey hey hey HEY!" We stopped, starring at him as he instructed, "let's see how much money we got?"

Yeah. The boy has certainly got brains.

We sat down in the middle of the tracks, handing Gordie our money as he counted. "I got $1.02, $1.00 from Tess, 68¢ from Chris, 60¢ from Teddy..." He paused, giving a look of disbelief towards Vern as few pennies dropped in his palm. "Seven cents, Vern?"

Vern shook his head defensively. "I haven't found my pennies yet," he explained and I suppressed the desire to roll my eyes.

Gordie sighed. "Well, $3.37 is not bad." He smirked, smiling a little. "Quidacioluo's is at the end of that little road that goes by the junkyard. I think we can get some stuff there." I pat his shoulder in agreement, and he smiled my way as I admired the zing that went through my arm. To avoid his sudden gaze, my eyes fell on his head, noticing a couple of rouge hairs had fallen out of his neatly combed bangs.

Then the ground beneath our ass's started trembling, and a familiar whistle pierced the air.

"Train's comin'." Chris said.

"Thank you mister obvious," I joked as we maneuvered to the side, ignoring the glare piercing holes through my back. Noticing Teddy wasn't with us, I looked back, shocked to see him standing stupidly in the train's way. "What the hell are you doin'!" I shouted.

Chris shook his head, it was impossible to tame Duchamp. "Come on man!"

But the crazy boy shook his head. "No, uh-uh," he said, throwing his bed roll our way and it landed near our feet. "I'm gonna dodge it."

My blood ran cold, eyes widened. "Jesus Christ man! That's suicide!" I shouted.

But he stubbornly stood his ground. Muttering a few words that sounded like "Dig it" and "Normandy Beach", all the while my twin was demanding for him to move his ass.

Then, chaos.

It was impossible to hear over the train as it whizzed by us, but somehow Chris and his stupid hero complexity managed to drag a violently struggling Teddy off the tracks before the train could hit him. They grasped, snatched, snarled, struggled and shouted at each other while the rest of us tried to pry them apart.

I couldn't exactly tell what my brother and Duchamp were yelling but as the train passed, the sentence I could make out from Chris's mouth was, "GOD DAMMIT! YOU'RE TRYING TO KILL YOURSELF!"

After that, it was as if the whole world was plunged into silence. No one dared to move. The two boys glared hard at each other, breathing slow and their heartbeat fast.

"I don't need no babysitter." Teddy muttered, eyes narrowed.

Chris jerked his head, slightly. "You do too," he muttered back, and suddenly the tenderness was back in his eyes, blinking, as he held out his hand. "Skin it."

But Teddy just shook his head. "I could've dodged it." Stubbornly, he turned, beginning to walk away.

My brother went after him, stopping the boy in his tracks. "Hey Teddy, you can dodge it on the way back man." He held out his hand again. "Peace. Skin it." His voice cracked at the end, yet it was soft.

Finally, Teddy took the gesture, and I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

We walked along in silence, my mind wandered to what I had just witnessed, contemplating it.

Out of the two boys who's life were in danger just some minutes ago, I realized a nagging in my brain said I was furious with my brother. It was strange, I never got mad at him, but seeing him just feet away from a moving train was definitely a trigger to something. I looked up, scowling at the back of Chris's head, wondering hopefully if he felt my penetrating gaze. My suspicions was confirmed as I noted his movements become jerky and stiff, as if he could read exactly what I was thinking.

"You okay?"

A voice jerked me from my thoughts, and I looked up to my side. Gordie's expression was impassive, but his tone held a tinge of concern. "Yeah," my response was curt. "I'm fine." The boy didn't seem convinced, but he thankfully let it drop.

We veered off to the side, the gravelly setting beneath our feet becoming more and more dusty and dirty. A fence loomed up ahead of us with two signs attached to it that read: CASTLE ROCK SALVAGE and NO TRESPASSING.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please review for faster updates! **

**Next up:**

**Boob talk**

**Lachance and Chambers time**

**LOONY LOONY LOONY!**


	4. Men are Immature

A comfortable wave of silence washed over us as we stared out behind the fence.

"Hey Vern," Gordie smirked, breaking the silence. "Look's like your ma's been out drivin' again."

Tessio scowled. "Oh, that's so funny I forgot to laugh."

I just shook my head, unimpressed.

"Stand back men!" Teddy cried out, taking a few steps back as he threw his bedroll over the fence. "Pkooooooow!" He voiced and right before he climbed over the fence, he glanced at us. "Paratroops! Over the side!" This of course was said with wild arrogance and maybe even a bit of stupidity. He ran towards the water well, shouting out random army orders and mimicking gun firing sounds.

We copied, climbing over the fence after him.

"Teddy's crazy." I heard Lachance mutter before going over to help pump out water. Chris and Gordie raced down the path, and all was silent once more as we settled into the shade.

We took turns for awhile throwing rocks into an empty can found lying around the yard. After a moment, Teddy asked, "Hey, you guys been watching the 'Mickey Mouse Club' lately?" I really had no idea where he was going, but it was interesting so far.

"Yeah why?" I asked, unprepared for the answer.

Teddy smirked cheekily. "I think Annette's tits are getting bigger."

My jaw fell loose. "What the fu—"

"Think so?" my lovable brother cut off.

"Yeah I think so too," Gordie added.

That was enough for me to plug my ears and mutter under my breath, "La la la la..." but cuffed Gordie's shoulder when he made some kind of boob grabbing gesture. "Thanks, boys, much appreciated" I hissed, the sardonic tone was heavy in my voice, and I stood up to hide behind a pile of junk just some feet away, hoping to block out their voices. _Men are immature._ I thought. Yet_ I'm probably not much better. _It was times like these when my emotions would get a bit...hectic...and my stomach would twist into knots. From frustration or pleasure, I wasn't sure. I sat on the ground, eyes narrowed.

A shadow fell across my own minutes later, and I looked up to find boob grabber standing before me. "What is it Lachance?" I snapped. He flinched, surprised by my tone, eyes wary, like he was looking at a volcano that could explode in any minute. Not wanting to scare him, I released the tension in my face, tucked my ebony hair behind my ears, and blew out a breath, hoping to appear calm. "What is it?" I repeated, sighing.

"Uh." Gordie hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck, surprised by my quick change of attitude. "We flipped coins, I lost," he explained, "gotta go to Quidacioluos..." Drifting off he then added, "Wanna come?" Then he just stood there, hands by his sides, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

Raising a delicate eyebrow, I inquired teasingly, "You seriously expect me to go with you after _that_?" I said, pointing back in his friends direction.

"Well, no but, I thought..." Trailing off once again, Gordie shrugged. "Nevermind," and walked passed me, looking at his feet, feeling warm and agitated.

Feeling guilty, I stood up, brushing the dirt of my jeans. "Hey Lachance," I watched as he pivoted around, paused. "I was kidding," and jogged up next to him.

We quietly escaped the junkyard and walked along the road, swerving to the side as few cars passed. The silence filled with so much tension, you could cut it with a knife. Just so I wouldn't go crazy and run back to the junkyard, I blurted out, "How're things at home?" My mouth snapped. _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

To my relief though, he didn't seem to mind, possibly glad the tension was gone. "Still invisible," he shrugged nonchalantly. "My father's not impressed as always, and my mom won't talk to me." He turned, eyeing me curiously, and I felt my skin grow warm under his gaze.

"Well," I muttered, trying hard not to look his direction, which was quite difficult with him standing right there next to me...right there...our arms brushing once or twice. The knots in my stomach tightened. "My father almost slapped Chris," I heard him suck in a breath. "But he didn't," I added quickly, "if it wasn't for my mother interrupting the physical struggle, he would've."

"Physical struggle?"

"Yeah we told him about camping out in Vern's backyard...he didn't take it so good."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

Quickening our pace, we rounded a corner, Quidacioluos right up ahead. "I'll stay out here," I said as we stood under the little shade and cover the building offered.

"Ya sure?" Gordie asked.

"Yeah."

"'Kay." And he went inside, leaving me to stand awkwardly in the heat.

I thought about home, how Mom and Dad were doing, including the other kid's parents. But for some reason, my mind grew bored of the topic of concerned parents and turned to Gordie.

A small smile.

It had been awhile ever since I saw the kid in a whole new light. The moment, was unforgettable. He, Chris, and I had walked down to a small park near our house. It had a small fountain that created a small pool that surrounded your feet, small play structure, a small sing set. Hell even the three of us kids were quite small, about the age of eight.

Since it had been another hot summer day, we were splashing around the small pool area, wrestling around and soaked through our skin, not having a care. When suddenly Lachance cried out. The boy stood, wobbling over to the edge of the small pool and sat upon the concrete edge, cradling his foot. Now you know girls, when someone we are friends with gets hurt in any kind of way, physical or emotional, some mother instinct kicks in and we have to make sure our friend's alright...right? So when Gordie got hurt, I splashed over to, settling by his side, shivering from the now cool breeze brushing our skin.

As I checked his foot, which had scraped the bottom of the pool, I found myself enjoying the sensation of my fingers sweeping his skin. And I looked up at the rest of him: his shirt was soaked, hugging his lean form, hair wet and sticking to his forehead, water droplets dripping off his face as the sun shone directly on us, it's rays slightly warm. I didn't feel anything sexual back then, since we were just small immature kids. But love and care started to pool inside my chest and stomach, and as his worried gaze mirrored mine, his light chocolate eyes were so warm, I found myself drowning in there depths of warmth.

The door to Quidacioluo's suddenly opened with a jingle, and I jerked out from my thoughts as twelve going on thirteen Gordie stepped out.

One look at his face and I knew something was up.

"You okay?" I asked as we trudged out onto the road.

Lachance tipped his head to the side, eyes far away, a bit glassy. "The man beside the register..." veering to the side of the road, he said, "talked about Denny."

Crap.

"He told me how great Denny was." Gordie proceeded, his voice shaking. "How great his football playing skills were. How great of an arm he had, and then he asked me if I played football and I responded no and the look on his face was just so disappointing but I didn't care because he was bringing back unpleasant memories — "

"Gordie!" I stopped his rambling as he came to a halt, my hands upon his shoulders. A sudden urge to just hold him in my arms pooled in my chest. To comfort him until all his worries disappeared. "Listen to me." I brought my hand to touch the underside of his chin, bringing his eyes to catch my forest green ones. It was then in that moment I realized he had grown a few inches, and I suppressed the warmth creeping up my skin. "You aren't Denny, and I know this is hard," I added quickly as his scowl deepened. "Now I won't say 'I know how you feel' because I don't, I don't think I'll ever know what it's like to lose a close sibling."

I swallowed, the tension growing again, making me uncomfortable. "But Gordie," I repeated his name, making sure he was really listening, the word smoothly slipping of my tongue. "You were meant for great things. Not as great as Denny and his football skills, but even greater. And if that guy at the register can't see that, then screw him because he doesn't know a damn thing!" I finished fiercely and watched his expression.

Slowly, a small smile spread upon his face.

I swallowed. _  
_

And suddenly I was embraced in his grip, his arms hugging my waist. By instinct, my arms wrapped around his neck, like I was keeping him safe from all the negative energy that seemed to work against him. In that moment, I realized just how different the embrace was compared to all other hugs we've given each other. Those were just friendly, reassuring, happy hugs, and we thought nothing of it. But this embrace had me discover just how much both of us had matured over the years. The embrace, so different like the rest, was filled with understanding.

"Thanks." Gordie whispered, and his grip tightened.

When we arrived back to the junkyard, everyone was gone. "Where is everyone — " My question was cut short as the dreaded cry of Milo screeched through the air.

We ran.

"Sic 'em Chopper!"

I ran faster, forcing my legs to push much harder, climbed the fence, and jumped over, landing on my back. Then everyone burst into fits of laughter, and I turned in bemusement, my gaze falling on Chopper — or mini Chopper I should say.

"That's Chopper?!" Gordie said, breathless beside me.

We looked at each other and laughed, dusting ourselves off and laughing at the small, golden retriever puppy, who was at the moment, biting Teddy's shirt who was saying, "Eat shit Chopper! Bite shit!"

Milo ran towards the fence, pointing an accusing finger at our faces. My mind suddenly turned to Dad, and realized how much Milo looked like him. The only difference was, my father was a lot slimmer. But the same snarl caught unto their lips, same dusty and sweaty skin, same wild look in their eyes, same tone in their angry voices and I was only hearing half the discussion that was currently blowing up between my friends and him because all my thoughts, had turned back to Dad; the one person I was secretly hoping to forget on this trip.

"Fat ass!"

I jerked my head towards Gordie, who had called the outburst, realizing how much discussion I had missed, for the yelling and screaming that had happened, all of it had been distant echoes in my head.

"I know you!" Milo said, and my attention snapped to him. "You're Lachance! I know all you guys! And all your fathers are going to get a call from me." He paused, "except for the Loony up in Togus." Yup, men are immature.

My breath caught, I knew exactly who Milo was talking to and about.

Teddy lost it.

"I'M GONNA KILL YOU YOU SONOVABITCH!"

Chris and I in sync, grabbed Teddy by his arms and pulled him away. We could still hear Milo's cries of "Come back hear!" over Teddy's sobs of "He ranked my old man!" I wasn't sure which one was worse, as we hauled ourselves out from Milo's view as quickly as possible.

Later, as Teddy finished sobbing (which I don't know why he cared about his father so much who almost killed him), we tried to comfort the boy, but he told us to and here I quote, "Just forget it!"

We did.

* * *

**Guess who's baaaack!**

**Sorry for not updating soon, but I had lost going on this passed week and weekend. I hope all you Gordie fans out there enjoyed this chapter.**

**Next up:**

**TRAAAAAIIIIN!**


	5. With My Thoughts

_"Maybe it shouldn't be a party."_

Gordie's words echoed in my head. The truth of his words about finding Brower's body had sort of stabbed my heart. What was worse, Vern had to add on to the dread, describing how bloody and broken the body might look. (Chris had lost it, telling him to shut up).

We were walking along the tracks again, and I balanced on the track's edge, arms out, pretending I was a five year old girl, imagining myself on a balance beam. Some few yards up ahead, Vern and Teddy were singing Lollipop while few yards behind me, was my brother and good ole' Gordo.

I realized how many special moments would fill this adventure. How every second I should cherish, and live in the moment. There were so many options on how to live in these moments, I wasn't sure which or what to do. But I decided to let things flow, allowing them to head my way. So in this moment of somewhat independence, I let my my mind wander.

School.

It was sort of a depressing thought since _it_ was coming right around the corner. School didn't bore me, it was the kids at school that made me want to punch a wall from frustration and cry.

But I could not cry.

This was because for awhile, I've had to to put a guard up, protecting my emotions, though by that time, I could feel it slipping, and it terrified me.

I never wanted to build a wall, it just had on it's own. I assumed it was because of the shit I had dealt with at home and all the harassing I got at school. The guard just made it easier for me to ignore all the negativity and focus more on what was important.

And what was important to me, was the four boys I got to hang out with. Everyday, I would look forward to meeting up with them at the tree house. Because there, we could be whoever or whatever we wanted to be, and no one could tell us what to do or it was immature. We ruled Castle Rock in that tree house, it was our only escape.

"Fuck writing!"

I swirled around to see Chris and Gordie in a heated, yet heart to heart talk. My mind told me to get in their business and argue with Lachance, but my heart told me not to. Instead, I decided to go see what Vern and Teddy were talking about.

"You don't know nothin'." Teddy was saying as I jogged up behind them. "Mighty Mouse is a cartoon and superman is a real guy. No way Mighty Mouse could beat up a real guy."

I shook my head, these guys could be real thick. "Actually Duchamp," I said, bringing some attitude to my voice. "I hate to break it to ya, but Superman is a comic book. Therefore, not, and I repeat, not a real guy."

Ha!" Vern said and gave me a high-five.

Teddy scowled, whirling around to face me. "No! Superman is a real guy, and you can't prove a thing."

"Can you prove he's real?" I retorted, scoffing in amusement.

Crazy boy narrowed his eyes, looking for an answer. "No," he echoed, "but he is real. I just know it."

I shook my head, smirking. But decided not to reason with him, logic was not going to help him anyhow. Perhaps what Duchamp needed was a hero, and Superman was going to save him and instead of this crazy, wild, dangerous, lousy old life, give him powers and he could live as a superhero himself.

Vern suddenly turned around to yell at the two slow pokes lagging behind us. "Come on you guys, let's get moving!"

"Yeah by the time we get there, the kid won't even be dead anymore." Teddy called and I pushed his head. "What?"

"Teddy," I said with a feigned smile. "Shut up."

Next thing I know, the train tracks neared a bridge that crossed a river. We had few choices, ignore the bridge and take the long way around, or go across the bridge which was quickest, yet held a slighter chance of death.

Vern looked about. "Anyone know when the next train is due?"

Chris shook his head, "We could go 'round to the Route 136 bridge," he suggested. But Teddy shook his head.

"What? Are you crazy?" he protested, hand out in gesture. "That's five miles down the river. You walk five miles down the river that's five miles back." He sighed. "That could take 'till dark. If we walk across here we could get to the same place in ten minutes."

I disagreed with the choice of crossing the bridge though, it was too dangerous. "Yeah but Teddy — "I began but he cut me off.

"What Theresa? Scared?" he taunted.

Honestly in those moments, I could have soaked him or cussed him to hell.

It seemed like I wasn't the only one who disagreed. "If the train comes, there's nowhere to go." Vern said.

"No there isn't." Teddy said. "We'll just jump."

"Teddy, that's a hundred feet." Chris argued, scowling in objection.

"Look," Teddy stubbornly argued. "You guys can go around if you want. I'm crossing here. And while you guys are dragging your candy-asses halfway across the state and back, I'll be relaxing, on the other side, with my thoughts."

Gordie suddenly smirked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. "You use your left or right hand for that?"

I gave an unladylike snort, laughing.

Teddy stopped. "You wish," and proceeded to cross the bridge.

As the others slowly followed, Chris and then Vern after, I turned to Gordie, who was feeling the railings for vibrations. "This is a horrible idea." I said as he got up to follow the others. "We just wasted half our time arguing, and now the train's closer."

"We should be fine." Gordie replied, though in his voice, was a tinge of concern.

Being the last to follow, I reluctantly set foot on the bridge, and even though I weighed less than my brother, the boards still creaked and groaned beneath my feet. All my senses heightened, and it seemed like I could suddenly hear everything. The water far below me, the boards beneath my feet, the call of random birds. What was worse, was the sun seemed to shine right on us, making sweat appear upon my forehead, and I swiped the droplets away with the back of my hand. About halfway across the bridge, just few feet ahead of me, Vern, who was crawling on his hands and knees, gasped, flopping onto his stomach, reaching out below.

"I lost the comb!"

Gordie snapped. "Forget it Vern."

Vern continued crawling his way across, hoping the boards would not crack beneath his weight.

Lachance checked the railings again, and a hint of a scowl crossed his features. "Gordie?" I asked, my stomach dropping to my feet, and I knew it without him telling me anything.

We both looked back at the same time. Steam from a train was just visible above the treetops.

"TRAAAAAAAAIIIN!

Vern cursed. "Oh shit!" and crawled faster, but the dip shit was slowing the rest of us down.

"Get up Vern!" Gordie screamed trying to haul the heavy weight of Vern in his arms but Vern dropped down, hugging his bedroll. "God dammit we're going to die! Shit! Get up!"

"But I'm gonna fall!"

I shrieked. "God damn it get up Vern! You're gonna kill us!"

"No!"

Gordie lost it. "God dammit VERN!"

Now you're probably wondering why I didn't just run around them. When you're in fear, your brain either freezes, or works fast. Mine sort of froze, and there really wasn't enough room to run around anyway. I was the remaining kid, stuck behind dip shit who finally got moving as all three of us ran for our lives...literally. My brother and Teddy were already on the other side, yelling for us to move faster.

The train's whistle screamed in my ears, and my vision tunneled, keeping my eyes on Chris, who had a look of horror and traumatic fright upon his face.

Vern wasn't moving any faster, and the train was just a few feet behind me. Five feet...four feet...three feet...two feet...one foot...

I launched off the bridge, feeling myself fall...down

...down

...down

...down

...SPLASH!

I almost blacked out. I probably did, but I don't remember much besides the fact that I had thrown my bedroll off my shoulder to drag the extra weight behind me as I swam. The water was shockingly cold, soaking through my button down shirt and skin as I kept my head above water. This was easier said then done, but thank goodness the water was calm enough to not fight against it so much. Still, the shock of falling still flooded my veins, and I'm pretty sure I was hardly moving, or my movements were choppy. My mind was overworking, giving me unlimited options on what to do but I paid no attention. Everything was blurring, everything was so suddenly confusing that dread flooded my veins.

It seemed like forever until I finally heard faint yells coming from the banks of the river. But with my ears filled with water, their cries echoed passed me. Subconsciously, I followed the sounds.

Just as my foot scraped the ground, arms were tugging and hauling me up to safety.

As my wobbly legs could finally somehow stabilize my stance, I was almost knocked over by another force which engulfed me in a big, chill warming hug. I held on tight to my brother, who was breathing hard, heart beating fast, and shivering from fright. I dug my nose into his warm neck, relieved to feel safe once more. Again, the hug felt different, except this one was full of shock and a determined fierceness only a lovable brother could have.

"SHIT! DON'T YOU EVER DO THAT TO ME AGAIN!" Chris yelled in my face, but I didn't care, I was so glad to see him that I laughed in response, making me seem crazy.

"Sure thing brother. Sure thing." I laughed some more and the others joined, glad I was safe. "Gordie!" I exclaimed and hugged him tightly. "I'm glad you're okay."

"Me too," he whispered in my ear and laughed. "Gave me a fright."

I exchanged reassuring hugs from the rest of the guys and we continued on, laughing some more to lighten the mood, the shock over. Though I was still freezing, and the wind that blew over us did not help one bit.

That evening, the campfire was warm and bright. The sticks we held with meat on the ends glowed, heat running through our arms.

"Man," Teddy said, a big grin plastered on his ridiculous face. "That was the all time train dodge! Too cool." He then laughed, turning to Vern who sat down beside him. "Vern, you were so scared, you looked like that fat guy in Abbott and Costello when he saw the mummy."

The boy scowled. "I wasn't that scared."

"Vern," we chorused.

"No really," he protested. "I wasn't, sincerely."

Gordie looked smug. "Okay, then you won't mind if we check the seat of your Jockeys for Hershey squirts, will you?"

We burst into laughter.

"Hey Vern," Chris said, eyeing the boy's hamburger. "You better turn your's over."

But the stubborn boy shook his head. "No, this is the way I like it."

"Fine."

His burger suddenly plopped down into the fire. We all laughed once more as Vern complained, "Aw no man! No man! You got anymore Gordie?"

Lachance's laugh strengthened. "Sorry Vern."

"It's not funny! What am I supposed to eat?" Vern cried.

"Your feet?" I suggested, bringing back Teddy's joke, and we laughed some more.

Teddy rolled his eyes. "Why don't you cook your dick?"

"It'd be a small meal." Chris joked and that did it, we were laughing too hard and my stomach started hurting.

Vern's scowl suddenly turned to glee. "Aha! Screw you guys," he said, showing us his hamburger that was set back on his stick. "Hahaha."

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**Two updates in a day? Woah!**

**Well, the next scene will be a bit more intimate and maybe even a kiss? Who knows?**


	6. By the Campfire's Light

**Even though this story only has few reviews. I wanted to thank those who took at least a minute or two for commenting. It's great motivation, and every time I get an email saying another review has been posted, ideas just spring to my head and I don't have enough time to write them all down!**

**Thanks so much you guys. **

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After eating our delicious, mouth-watering hamburgers, all five of us settled around the campfire that had dimmed down for the night. Chris then handed us each a cigarette, and we had a nice, relaxing smoke. It's funny looking back on it now. I'm surprised four out of five of us didn't grow up to be heavy smokers later on. Teddy was the only one who smoked, day and night.

"Nothin' like a smoke after a meal." Vern said, breathing out a puff of smoke.

I nodded, sentimental. "What I look forward to everyday."

A smirk fell upon Teddy's face. "Yeah, I cherish these moments."

I caught Chris's eye, and we shared a laugh, including Gordie.

"What?!" Teddy protested. "What did I say?"

"Nothin' man," I nonchalantly waved my hand, encouraging him to forget it. It's not like what Teddy said was that funny. It's just he was so guarded and proud of himself all the time. So in those rare moments when his guard was let down, the words that come out from his mouth are just surprisingly touching.

"Hey Gordo." Chris said after a pregnant pause. "Why don't you tell us a story?"

Everyone immediately piped up. "Yeah," I agreed with my brother, nudging Gordie's side with my elbow, who just nudged me back.

"Ah, I don't know." Gordie shrugged, looking a bit bashful.

"Oh come on," Chris and I chorused.

Vern spoke up. "Yeah come on Gordo," he agreed, gesturing with his hands. "But not one of your horror stories okay? I don't wanna hear no horror stories, I'm not up for that."

This made me roll my eyes, and I threw a sneer towards mister chicken over my shoulder. "What else do you expect?" I asked Vern. "We're sitting around a campfire in the middle of the forest, that's a perfect opportunity for horror stories." A persuading whine entered my voice, but Vern wasn't moved. I gave him a glance before turning back to the fire.

"Why don't you tell us about Sgt. Steele," Teddy said after a pause, "and his battling leathernecks." I for once agreed with Duchamp, and gave him a high-five.

But Gorie seemed to have other ideas. He shrugged saying, "Well the one I've been thinking about is kinda different," he started and we all settled into a more comfortable position, eagerly waiting for more. "It's about a pie-eating contest..."

Honestly, my eagerness for a story dissolved right when he said "Pie-eating contest". That night, instead of pie-eating contests, I would have completely enjoyed the thrills and chills of a horror story. Now don't get me wrong, I love listening to Gordie's stories. It's just sometimes they're a little immature for my taste. Chris joked it was because I was a "woman" as he put it and something about girls maturing faster than guys. Though surprisingly, I agreed with dear brother, the logic of his words made complete sense to me.

He even pointed out the maturity level of different books I've stuck my nose into. My love for reading came as a shock to both me and my friends. Since I hung out with the boys and was used to wrestling around and getting dirt caked on my face, there would be times when I came home, and stole a book from Mom's library to read in my room. It was how I found the tranquility in bad, loud, noisy, and irritating days where fate and luck just worked against me. I began to read a book at least one time a month, and those months turned into every two weeks, and then every other day. The habit formed in the beginning of fifth grade.

After awhile, Chris noticed my absence on days where I could be hanging out with him and the others. Soon, he started pestering me nonstop. For example: my skin was too light because I lacked the rays of sunshine from staying indoors too often, how I would need glasses because my eyes would die of boredom.

Of course his pestering got to me and I got out in the sun more, enjoying familiar feelings of warmth you only get when associating with your best friends.

A slight nostalgic wave crashed over me, and I suddenly wished to have packed the _Narnia_ book I had been reading that summer.

For me, reading was like escaping into some alternate universe where your realities would disappear and nothing could disturb you. Fantasy books were the best when it came to escaping reality, yet in a way, I always thought that our reality was all a dream, and that there really was some alternate realm where everything was beautiful. Sounds cheesy, but beautiful was the only word I could describe this alternative place.

"What about you Tess?"

I jerked out from my thoughts, realizing everyone was impatiently staring my way. "Huh?" was all I could choke out.

"What did you think about the ending?" Teddy asked.

It took a moment for my brain to click in and realize; Gordie was done with his story. "Oh um," I nervously tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, avoiding everyone's penetrating gaze. "I uh..." Yeah I was screwed.

"Tess!" Chris exclaimed, cuffing my shoulder. "You've got to be joking." He knew exactly where my mind had traveled, and I blushed. "She wasn't even paying attention!"

"Sorry," was all I could mutter, though I knew it didn't make much of a difference. "The story just," I paused, knowing my words had to be chosen very carefully. Looking down at the ground, I fumbled the soil and brushed it through my fingers. "It wasn't very appealing to me." My eyes met Gordie's, who's impatient expression had turned to a scowl, a look of betrayal, and I knew in some way, I had betrayed him. "Look I'm sorry, I just..." Guilt washed through me, and I wanted to suddenly curl up and disappear.

"No it's fine." Gordie snapped, his scowl deepening, and turned to stare at the flames. "You're a girl, I get it. Pie-eating contest aren't mature enough for you."

His harsh words jabbed a thorn to my chest, and my breath hitched. More guilt bubbled beneath my skin, and I mentally slapped myself across the face twice because here I was, completely going against what I had said earlier to Lachance. Silent tension arose, and for a moment, no one dared to breath, expecting me or Gordie to crack. But nothing happened, and I was forced to look at the ground, the warmth in my face turning hot. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"Hey," Chris warily began, and I braced myself for more jabbing words. "Vern where's the radio, let's see if we can get some tunes." And just like that, the tension was gone and I breathed out a sigh of relief. _Thanks brother._

All five of us talked through the night. Each of us adding in our own experience or opinion to the subject being conversed about. We even had a discussion over Goofy from The Mickey Mouse Club. The question was, "Mickey's a mouse, Donald's a duck, Pluto's a dog...what's Goofy?" Let me tell you, that one had us for a loop. Teddy said Goofy's a dog, I agreed. Vern wasn't so sure, conflicted, same as Gordie, but Chris was positive Goofy was _not_ a dog. His reason, "He can't be a dog. He wears a hat and drives a car."

No one mentioned Ray Brower. But we were all thinking it.

Once we were settled down for the night, sprawled around in the shape of a large ring around the campfire, we dozed off, warmed by the heat radiating off the fiery flames. But our peaceful night was soon interrupted by a loud, echoing, howl.

_Awhoooooooooo!_

"Jesus Christ!" I exclaimed and jumped from my bedroll, senses alert.

Everyone else had awoken as well, each shaking in their skin.

Vern gasped. "Oh my god!" We all looked around to see where the sound was coming from, but it seemed to be surrounding us.

"It's that Brower kid." Teddy taunted. "His ghost is out walking in the woods."

"Shut up." I snapped.

Vern was on his hands and knees, praying fervently, looking as if he was about to cry. "I promise I won't hawk no dirty books. I promise I won't say no bad words. I promise I'll eat my lima beans — Ah!" He startled as Teddy sneakily tapped his shoulder.

"Two for flinching." We know what came next.

Gordie whirled around as another batch of howls echoed through the night. "What is it Chris?" He asked, trying to appear calm. But his voice shook and his eyes were wide.

"Maybe it's coyotes." Chris replied, the gun in his hand raised. And he whirled around as more howls erupted.

I couldn't help the shiver that tingled through my spine. "Yeah, or hungry spirits," I added quickly. The comment was unnecessary, but I needed it off my chest.

"It sounds like a woman screaming." Gordie noted and I threw him a glare, the tension from earlier rising.

Teddy said impatiently, "It's not coyotes, it's _his_ ghost."

"Shut the fuck up Duchamp!" I snarled, but he just ignored me, beginning to climb up the small hill that surrounded the clearing we currently stood in.

Chris snapped at him. "Teddy! Sit down."

"I'm gonna go look for it." Mister crazy whined. "I wanna see a ghost."

I snarled. "Keep wishing that and your thoughts are gonna bring all of them ghost in!"

"Don't say that!" Vern groaned, glaring my way.

Teddy stubbornly shook his head. "I just wanna see it! I wanna see what he looks like!"

_AWHOOOOOOOOO!_

Everyone instinctively ducked, as if something would come at us from above, while others covered their ears.

I trembled some more. Though I felt extremely foolish.

"Jesus H. bald headed Christ!" Teddy cursed while stumbling back down the hill.

Vern's voice shook as he suggested, "Maybe we should stand guard."

Chris nodded, death gripping the gun. "Yeah. Good idea."

Teddy perked up at this info, his hands becoming grabby grabby once more. "Gimme the gun, I'll take first watch."

I wanted to protest, to say he would get carried away with it and accidentally kill us all. I kept my mouth shut.

After the horrible howling stopped, we settled back down, hoping to catch a wink of sleep...but Teddy's muttering was not helping one bit!

"2300 hours, Corporal Teddy Duchamp stands guard. No sign of the enemy. The fort is secure." Teddy stood with his back against a tree, gun cocked towards the sky, muttering strange and irritating words.

Chris jerked his head up. "Shut it Teddy and keep your eyes peeled."

"Pkoww!" Teddy mimed the bang of a gun.

"Stop it!"

"Shut up Duchamp!"

"You wanna get us killed?!"

"Not helping Teddy!"

It was going to be a very long, cold, irritating night.

Somewhere in between Duchamp's silly whispers, I had dozed off. It must have been a few hours until I awoke to hushed whispers talking by the guard tree. It took awhile for my brain to de-fuzz, and I recognized the voices immediately.

"Why not? You're smart enough." It was Gordie.

"They won't let me in," came my brother's response.

"Why not?"

I could just imagine Chris shrugging. "It's the way people think of my family in this town," he began but stopped as he heard a ruffling coming from the bedrolls.

My bedroll.

I had turned to lie on my side, facing them, but my eyelids were closed.

Silence nipped the air.

"Anyway," my brother proceeded. "People think my family is dangerous."

I peeked out from one eye, watching Gordie scoot a bit closer. I couldn't see their expressions, but the atmosphere around the two boys was emotional, I could almost taste it. The moment was inviting, yet it made me want to push away and not witness the words being whispered between them. I felt like an intruder, yet I couldn't help but eavesdrop.

"That's not true." Gordie whispered fervently.

"Oh no it is!" Chris argued. "No one even asked me if I took the milk money." I heard him sigh. "I just got a three day vacation."

There was a pause.

"Did you take it?"

I snapped my eyes shut, knowing the answer already and what was to come next. Chris had told me all about it before, but he was angry when telling me, not open and vulnerable like he was now with his best friend sitting beside him. I listened carefully to each word coming out of his and Lachance's mouth, each word breaking my heart a little bit more. My eyes remained shut, but my imagination was wide open. Since I knew the two so well already, I could already picture their expressions like a movie on a screen.

"And do you think that bitch would've dared to try something like that if it had been one of those douche bags from up on The View if they had taken the money?!" Chris's angered whisperers pierced the air, and I just about crumbled. I knew who he was talking about. Old lady Simons. God she was one _hell of a bitch_ to back-stab my brother! How dare she!

Gordie replied. "No way!"

"Hell no!" Chris agreed, furious. "But with me?" He paused, and I strained to hear more. "I'm sure she had her eye on that skirt for a long time..." His voice faded, and I pictured him looking out at the sky, green eyes millions of miles away. "She saw her chance and she took it." His voice shook, and it cracked a bit. " I was the stupid one for even trying to get it back..."

His voice was shaking uncontrollably, and criacked several more times. Then he did something I only saw him do since kindergarten.

He began to cry.

That was the final trigger, my heart shattered. I wanted to bound up and pull him into my arms, to coo him to sleep and reassure that everything was okay, that everything was going to get better. But even I knew that was a long shot, and I felt completely and utterly useless.

"I just n-never thought—" Chris choked and sputtered out, "I never thought a t-teacher—" he choked some more, failing to swallow his tears. "Oh who gives a fuck anyway?!"

And as Chris babbled, choked, and cried some more about getting out of town, with Gordie caressing his shoulder I stifled a sob, biting my tongue. If they had looked my way, they would've seen tears streaming down my face.

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**So, who's up for another update? Why have I been gone for so long? Flipping school of course!**

**Now we finally get a kiss next chapter...I promise! Or do I?**


	7. The Alternative If

**STOP AND READ! Hi everyone, so I rewrote this chapter, and realized i went off topic with this scene. So whoever read the first version of this, well, you gotta read it again, sorry. NOW i KNOW i'VE BEEN ABSENT...I'm sorry school caught up with me and I had to finish all these health project and assignments, and then I had a chemistry test and GAH! I'm sorry, I won't be absent for this long ever again!**

**Finally some time between our two favorite characters.**

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I had silently cried myself to sleep once more, and my dreams were shifty and unclear.

One moment we were being attacked by Ray Brower and the next we were jumping off the bridge, splashing into the ice cold water. Then my dream took a full turn and I was staring at Gordie's light brown eyes. We weren't very close, but close enough. He smiled playfully and then ran off, glancing over his shoulder like he was expecting me to give chase, though I didn't.

"Tess...Theresa!" a voice whispered above me and I heaved up, almost colliding into Chris's head.

"Whoa sis! Calm down." Chris whispered and shoved Dad's gun into my hand. "You're on watch."

I held the gun limply, not paying much attention to what my brother had just said. The darkened sky and glowing fire confirmed that it was still night. A slight breeze chilled the air as it whipped through our hair and tingled down our backs. Vern, Teddy, even Gordie had gone back to sleep. I was a little shaken from my sudden awakening, and trembled from head to toe.

Chris set his hand upon my shoulder. "Hey sis, you okay?" he noticed my confused scowl and inquired, "What's wrong?"

Honestly I wasn't so sure.

It was probably about my dreams or the sudden unfamiliar feeling of the woods. Either one wasn't very comforting.

"N-nothing." I stammered and shook my head to clear it. "Go back to sleep," I snapped and my brother tossed me the evil eye before shuffling back to his bedroll.

My legs felt stiff and a bit numb as I stumbled up to the guard tree, my breathing a bit shallow as the warm, humid, summer air filled my lungs.I sat down, back against the tree, gun hanging by a loose grip. The dark night sky was clear, and you could see almost every single little star. Suddenly a feeling of excitement raced through me and I found myself seeking out constellations. A small laugh erupted from my lips before I could stop it and familiarity warmed my heart.

Then a twig snapped and I whirled around, startled as I cocked the gun between the intruder's shocked eyes.

"You dodged death by a hair Lachance." I fervently whispered, heart pounding from shock.

For a moment, we just stood there, frozen, until Gordie asked politely, "C-could you please lower the gun, Tess," he stammered, skeptically eyeing the barrel.

With trembling hands, I lowered the gun. "Sorry," I muttered, looking down at the ground in embarrassment before settling back against the tree. Taking a deep breath, I managed to somewhat relatively calm my thumping chest. "Just a little on edge I guess."

"No kidding," He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders before sitting beside me. "Something on your mind?" He dug his hands into the soil, enjoying the feel of it weaving through his fingers.

I watched him for a second before answering. At that moment, the boy sitting beside me looked younger, innocent, even a bit curious. It was a comforting sight. "Dreams."

"Huh?"

I rolled my eyes, amused. "You asked why I was up, and I said 'dreams'. Plus I'm on guard duty."

"Oh, right." His voice seemed to fade, and he buried his hands further into the ground.

Scooting closer to try and steal some body heat, I said, "Something on your mind, Lachance?" The look in his eye said that his mind wasn't 100% in the present, and I had a hutch. "You miss Denny don't you?"

He sighed, clenching his fingers around the soil. "I try not to think of him, but he always comes up during the night." Voice shaking, he added, "And my dreams have been repeating themselves, each night's the same."

I had the impulse to ask him what his dreams were about, but instead, I asked, "What do you think your life would've been like if you weren't born a Lachance?"

"I'm not sure," he said after a pause. "Because, well, you see I really do love my family." He shrugged, swiping his fallen bangs to the side. "Guess I wouldn't have to endure all the pressure of a recently passed away brother if I wasn't a Lachance."

He went quiet again, so I thought of another question to keep him talking. Maybe it was because I didn't like his answer, or maybe it was because I didn't want the moment to end. Either way, I asked again, "Okay...what if you still lost a brother, but wasn't a Lachance." He stiffened, and I held my breath.

Closing his eyes for a moment, I was positive he would begin to cry. But to my surprise, a small smile stretched his lips. "It—it depends," he began. "If my father wasn't like mine, but still caring, I guess he would give me the attention I needed...and my mother wouldn't ignore me, you know. But if my father was exactly like mine, then I guess there wouldn't be much of a difference." He continued to smile, but his smile or happier mood didn't seem to lift mine.

The truth was, back then, most regular families had a strict father and a mother that followed his orders. Now I'm not saying every order, but most orders. Every family that had a sibling that was their parent's favorite was always put onto the higher step or light. And even if that sibling passed away, still, every family would ignore the other child.

It just how it was back then, but I kept my mouth shut after Gordie's response. Maybe he was right, maybe it didn't have to be so unfair. But the percentage of luck that came with a fair family was small.

"What about you?" the boy asked me. "How would your life be different if you weren't born a Chamber?"

I blinked twice, clearing my head from all thought to focus on his question. Remember when I said how most, regular families were the same? Well most families didn't have drunk parents to live with, so obviously the result would have been quite different if I wasn't a Chamber. "I'd be happier," I began with a sigh, mimicking Gordie's small smile. "Much happier," and a laugh bubbled from my throat. "My grades would obviously be higher, and I wouldn't have to live in fear at home. I'd have a caring mother who would look out for me and a strict father to push or motivate me to finish my goals, and—"

I stopped my babbling, a realization forming at the front of my mind, making my smile disappear. "A-and," I proceeded to say, "I would have different friends."

Lachance's eyes widened. "Yeah, yeah and you would probably hang out with the popular girls at school," he said. "Wow, your life would be really different…" He trailed off in awe.

The wind blew in our direction, making me scoot closer to him, almost pressing my side against his. I thought he would recoil, but instead, he didn't move. "I wouldn't even think about speaking to you, Teddy, Chris or Vern. Gee my attitude would even be different." The thought of me acting all prissy like the popular girls brought up unpleasant thoughts, I shivered.

"We probably wouldn't have even met." he said, troubled.

"And where would you four be without me?" I playfully jabbed his side, easing up the tension.

This made him laugh and squirm. "We'd have our heads in the dumpsters," he joked, making us both laugh.

"Oh man, what would I do without you? Any of you? Where would I be if I didn't have you guys?" I cracked a smile, already knowing the answer. "Probably some doom and gloom bitch with an cantankerous attitude."

This made Lachance snort in amusement. "No shit. I wouldn't wanna be around you." He paused for a moment, then said, "I'm glad you're different from the others."

I stopped, rolling over his words carefully before saying, "Ya really mean it?" Now a part of me knew I was different from the other girls, but I wanted to hear it from him. Now I dug my fingers in the soil, enjoying the sensation of loose ground weaving between my fingers.

There was a nonchalant shrug. "Well yeah," he said lightly. "You aren't afraid to get your hands dirty, or back down from a challenge. Every time Teddy says something' sexist you aren't afraid to prove him wrong. And the way you cuss people to hell, man Tess, no girl has ever said as much dirty smack as you have."

A funny feeling started up in my chest. I didn't know if it was the words he spoke or just him himself.

"But I know some things about you that most people don't," Gordie proceeded. I looked up at him, and almost recoiled when I noticed he had moved a bit closer. He faced me, back no longer leaning against the tree trunk. His bangs which had been so neatly combed to the side had now fallen towards his eyes, making there rich chocolate color stand out.

Not breaking eye contact, I muttered, "And what is it, that others don't know?" I asked, my tone challenging. A surge of confidence ran through me, and I felt less intimidated by the boy's close proximity.

But he didn't seem bothered. "Underneath all that toughness, you've got a soft side."

I quirked an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

"Mmhm."

"Prove it."

Right when I said that, I knew it would backfire, and my mind wandered to one moment, hoping he wouldn't remember.

He did.

"Quidaciolous."

Breaking our gaze, I stared at the trampled soil in which we sat on, feeling blood rush to my face. "Well that was just uh—a uh…" My mind frantically searched for the right words. "Lean on me type of thing," I blurted out, hoping he would buy the act. But of course, this was Lachance, the walkin' talkin' dictionary to life.

"Tess."

Looking back up, I realized if I jerked any closer, our noses would be touching.

"Yeah?"

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**Cliffhanger! I know I'm sorry *ducks from thrown objects*.**

**I promise I will update! Promise promise promise…..maybe even today…..How does that sound?**


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